


Swan Princess Drabble

by museless22



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museless22/pseuds/museless22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not now, perhaps, but it is our hope— And King James’s— That when you both come of age you and the princess will wed.” Cora’s fingers turned gentle, caressing a smooth cheek. Her smile was sweet but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So you will do your very best to befriend that girl, do you understand me? You’re old enough now to understand how important this is to us. Extend a warm hand and eventually she will love you. You’ve fortunately grown up quite lovely.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swan Princess Drabble

A/N: I’m using the word drabble loosely because this might be a little on the long side for that (I dunno, is there a standard?) But this is all there’s going to be, the (mostly) complete thought I had when the plot bunny grabbed me. While watching Brave, actually. Don’t ask me how I got from Brave to Swan Princess. -_- I dunno. 

 

“‘Giiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnaaaaaa! Lookit! I have something for you.”  
  
The loud intrusion made the needle in her hand slip, drawing a pinprick of blood that quickly beaded and dribbled all over the embroidery the girl had been fumbling her way through in the first place. She scowled and brought the injured finger to her lips, brown eyes narrowed. Shrewd even at the tender age of ten.  
  
The deceptively innocent looking princess fidgeting in front of her had her hands behind her back, grin stretching from ear to ear, and Regina’s mood darkened further. “What is it?”  
  
The flower Emma held out to her was a surprising beauty, perfect yellow petals arranged delicately around a flute-like center. Regina accepted it with something akin to awe, immediately burying her nose in the unexpectedly wonderful gift. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”  
  
“Also this.”  
  
The slimey green frog Emma pulled from her pocket was decidedly less so.

  
########

The girl was an easy target, sitting at the foot of the apple tree with heavy blue skirts spread all around her and her nose firmly lodged in a leather bound book. Lost to the world. Emma, flat on her belly in the long grass on the knoll over the orchard, had the perfect vantage point and for a moment she simply watched.   
  
The gangly, awkward child she had known for as long as she could remember-Since birth she suspected though she couldn’t say with clarity- had evidently been shed over the long winter and what was left in its place was, well,  _woman shaped._  All curves and smooth skin. Even the long braid Emma had taken great relish in tugging was gone, dark locks left loose to curl about slender shoulders.

  
The sight did funny things to the princess’s stomach, like someone had set a whole herd of wild horses loose in there and they were trampling around in circles.  
  
It was the dress, she decided. She liked the dress. It was lovely.  
  
Such a shame to ruin it but she  _had_  put a lot of time and effort into crafting her little balls of mud, just the perfect size for the cradle of the slingshot one of the freckle faced serving boys had helped her fashion. If she was going to get yelled at for all the muck she had gotten clumped in the wild curls of her hair and smeared on the front of her riding pants as a cost for her efforts she might as well get some fun out of it first.  
  
It was well worth it, she decided when the first shriek rent the air and the book was tossed aside.   
  
“EMMA! You are the worst—Most horrible—!”  
  
The princess giggled and crowed as she ran all the way back to the castle, her skirt laden nemesis having no hope of catching up with her flying bare feet.  
  
#######  
  
“I don’t understand why we have to stay here.” Regina groused, sulky as she caught her first glimpse of the White’s summer palace out the carriage window. “Why can’t we ever spend summer at home?”  
  
“Don’t whine, darling. It’s unbecoming.” Cora sighed, soothing a loose curl behind her daughter’s ear. “Do you know, dear, what an alliance is?”  
  
Regina shook her head, dislodging the hair anew.   
  
“It’s when two kingdoms merge together for their mutual benefit. They share food, armies. They protect each other. And do you know the best way to attain such an alliance?”  
  
Another headshake and Cora grabbed the girl by the chin, firmly tilting her face upwards. “Use your words, dear.  _Marriage_. There is no firmer bond that can be built between two kingdoms than marriage.”  
  
“But I don’t want-“  
  
“Not now, perhaps, but it is our hope— And King James’s— That when you both come of age you and the princess will wed.” Cora’s fingers turned gentle, caressing a smooth cheek. Her smile was sweet but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So you will do your very best to befriend that girl, do you understand me? You’re old enough now to understand how important this is to us. Extend a warm hand and eventually she will love you. You’ve fortunately grown up quite lovely.”  
  
Regina finally jerked away, as though burned, whirling to press her face almost desperately against the window. “And what if  _I_  don’t love  _her_? She’s a terror!”  
  
“Then you must find a way to tolerate her dear. We’ve put too much time into this to ruin it now.”

  
########

  
At sixteen years of age the White princess had finally sprouted up. Taller, shoulders broader. Still clumsy. She nearly tripped around her curtsy, awkward with the skirts of a dress some poor maid doubtless had to force her into for the occasion. The golden curls were still wild and unruly, a veritable lion’s mane.  
  
Regina’s return gesture was much more elegant and she forced her lips to stretch in a smile. When their parents split off and it was “suggested” that they take a walk and catch up—As though either cared what the other had been up to in the months they had been separated— she grudgingly took the other girl’s arm and allowed herself to be led out to the orchard. The trees were still in full bloom, swaths of green leaves and red fruit as brilliant as any ruby flourishing beneath a sun that hadn’t yet reached unbearable.  
  
It was beautiful and if not for the company she might have enjoyed it.  
  
“I hate this.” Emma said suddenly, breaking the silence Regina had been quite content with. Her fingers plucked at her bodice, torso wriggling in a way that was decidedly unladylike. “I don’t know how you bare it.”  
  
“Years of practice.” Regina said, not without jealousy. Where Emma had been let to run free, spoiled by a father who wanted but would never have a son and treated as surrogate, Regina had endured lesson after lesson. Ladies didn’t wear leathers or hunt with a bow or run barefoot through the fields.   
  
Ladies didn’t run at all, actually. They  _glided_.   
  
It was hard not to scowl but  _that_  wouldn’t be proper either. “You get used to it.”  
  
Emma’s nose scrunched, thinking that if she had any say in it at all there would be no need for her to get used to it-She would take her pants, thank you very much- but she merely shrugged. “Right. Well, uh, actually… I have something for you.”  
  
Regina raised an eyebrow, immediately withdrawing her hand from its place at the crook of the princess’s elbow. In her experience Emma’s attempts at gift giving usually ended with her running screaming from the room.  
  
“No, it’s alright, see, look—”  
  
The simple yellow flower Emma retrieved from the depths of the pockets of her skirts was a little ruffled around the edges, bordering on being flattened. Regina took it with a smile that was genuine, twirling the stem around in her fingers with a pleased little hum. “It looks like you sat on it all day.”  
  
“No! Well, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t have a good place to put it— Look, do you like it?”  
  
“Yes. It’s sweet, thank you.”  
  
Emma’s grin was all consuming, cheeks stained pleasantly pink, and Regina’s heart did a little stutter in her chest.  
  
No, she didn’t want to get married. Ever. To anyone. But Emma might make a fine friend.  
  
########  
  
Emma, it turned out, was delightful company when she wasn’t covered in mud and toting pockets stuffed with toads. She was still more prone to frolicking across the countryside than pursuits more befitting her station, but for once they managed to find common ground.  
  
Horseback riding, it turned out, was something they both took great pleasure from and Emma knew every nook and cranny of the land. She was almost  _endearing_ , babbling with enthusiasm about this farmer or that river from the saddle, forgetting herself and using her hands to such an extent she was lucky her poor old gelding didn’t spook.  
  
It didn’t escape Regina the amount of people who looked on their interactions with vaguely hopeful expressions. Their parents were one thing but it seemed everyone from the groundskeeper to the kitchen staff were waiting for a romance to blossom.  
  
It would ‘t happen she told herself, scowling at the cook’s over eager smile as she accepted the satchel of food she’d requested for her and the blonde’s afternoon abroad. There was nothing there.   
  
“So where are you taking me?”  
  
Emma placed one booted foot in her horses stirrup, swinging the other leg over the beast’s back with grace that was severely lacking in every other aspect of her life. “Firefly hill.”  
  
Regina’s brow furrowed. “You’re taking me to a hill? I thought you said this was going to be fun. If you haven’t noticed there’s any dozen of hills we could ride to…”  
  
The blonde rolled her eyes. “It’s amazing, trust me. You’ll see when we get there.”  
  
By the time they reached the hill—Which did have a rather impressive view of the valley spread out below it, dappled with houses and farms, but still looked like any other old hill to Regina— the sun was sinking low on the horizon.   
  
Regina patted her stallion’s neck affectionately before joining the princess beneath the copse of trees at the hill’s peak. She was pleased to see the blonde had had the foresight to pack a blanket in her saddlebags and was already spreading it across the grass. When it was passably stretched out Emma sprawled across it, the heels of her hands bearing the brunt of her weight, and Regina sat primly beside her.  
  
“Alright, it is an impressive view. But hardly worth an entire afternoon’s ride.”  
  
Emma snorted, head lolling back on her shoulders to peer at her brunette companion with amusement. “It’s called _fun_  for a reason. The destination doesn’t have to be important if you enjoyed getting there. Anyway, it gets better. Just wait for it.”  
  
“I do know how to have fun, it’s just—Oh!”  
  
It started slow, a few pinpricks flickering in the growing dark. Then they were everywhere, like tiny little points of starlight filling the valley below them. Fireflies, she realized. Hundreds and hundreds of fireflies. The sight stole her breath away. “Oh it’s beautiful.”  
  
“I know.”   
  
Then those strong, clumsy fingers were drawing her close and she hadn’t realized she was cold until warm arms were wrapped around her. She let herself relax against the blonde’s chest with a contented little sigh, choosing to ignore the rapidly beating heart beneath her ear even though hers had taken up a similar rhythm.  
  
It wasn’t love. She wouldn’t fall, no matter how much everyone wanted them to.  
  
Accept she was forced to admit that maybe she had developed at least a fondness, when autumn came and her family packed up to return home again. There was no other way to explain the way her heart ached at the blond’s simple goodbye-the barest brushing of fingers and a smile that took up the whole world- nor the way she still clung to the simple yellow flower the girl had pressed into her palms even hours into their journey.  
  
She nearly crumpled it to dust when she noted her mother’s smug, onlooking smile.  
  
########  
  
Her eighteenth summer was to be spent in their castle and Regina was not as glad to remain home as she thought she would have been. Every moment, it seemed, was spent in planning for the ball that would mark the occasion. So much so that her time with Emma was short and far in between, spent talking for greedily snatched hours in the night and stealing kisses in the stables (And it still wasn’t, couldn’t be love. Emma had a pleasing face and sweet lips and strong arms and a constant lingering scent of leather and wildflowers and none of that meant anything. She wouldn’t marry.).   
  
When the day finally came she met it with relief and trepidation. She knew what her mother expected to happen. She knew what King James and half their combined kingdoms expected to happen.   
  
What she didn’t know was what Emma would actually do.  
  
When they met on the ballroom floor, soft blond curls framing Emma’s wild smile and elegant white gown hugging her curves with grace that had come to her late, she let the anxiety melt away. There was no marriage she wasn’t ready for, no expectations, only them, spinning round and round in each other’s arms. She let the music sweep her away, eyes fluttering closed as she rested her cheek against the blonde’s shoulder.

The collective relief of the gathered nobles was almost palpable and for a moment she hated the lot of them and the contrived nature of the whole affair. This beautiful thing should be for them alone.  
  
########  
  
“I love you, you know.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
The celebration was still ongoing but they had slipped away, close in the dark shadows that swept the courtyard.  
  
“Ha, it  _is_  customary to say it back. Unless you don’t—”  
  
“Oh Emma. Of course I lo- I care about you. You know I do.” She was grateful the light dripping out the castle’s swung open doors didn’t quite meet the blonde’s eyes. She didn’t think she could stand it to see pain in their green depths. “But I don’t want to marry you.”  
  
“Wh-“  
  
“Let me rephrase. I don’t _never_  want to marry you. But if we do, I want it to be because I want to. Because I’m ready. Not because my mother wants it.” And there was a part of her, deep and contrary, that wanted to deny the thing entirely simply to spite the woman. What right did she have, dictating Regina’s life? “And if you ask me… I want it to be because you’re ready too.”  
  
Emma brushed a kiss against the back of her knuckles, feather soft over the linking of their fingers. “Well I can’t possibly argue with that.”  
  
########  
  
“You fool girl— You’ve ruined _everything_! They’re leaving and without a betrothal—Do you know how long I’ve waited—The deals I had to make—”  
  
“Mother please, just _listen_  to me—”  
  
And she seemed to, absorbing her daughters pleas that she just wasn’t ready for marriage but she did, she  _did_  love Emma, with a stoic face and an open embrace. Regina let her mother hold her, snuggling deep into her arms in a way she hadn’t since she was a very small child as she sobbed out all her fears and insecurities. Maybe someday. Just please, please,  _please_  not today.  
  
“Shhhh shhh. It’s alright, dear. I’m going to make everything better.”

  
########

It wasn’t rejection, truly. Just a perfectly reasonable request for more time. There was really no reason for her heart to feel as though it had shattered apart in her chest, but the organ steadfastly rebelled against her and the sensation grew progressively worse the closer to home they got. It was almost as though her body had turned the pain of separation into a physical thing. 

  
When their carriage trundled to a halt Emma looked up from her stoic contemplation of the lines etched in the palms of her hands with confusion. “It’s not time to stop yet?”  
  
“No.” James shook his head, reaching for the door. “I’ll see what’s going on.”  
  
He’d barely stepped foot outside when one of the horses screamed and something solid collided with the side of the carriage, rocking it over on its side with a great splintering crash.


End file.
